


keep me from the cages, under the control

by alcitrant



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Confusion, Drug Use, Drug-Induced Sex, High School, M/M, Manipulation, Muke - Freeform, Realization, Rough Sex, Sad, Self-Destruction, Smoking, Some Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 18:22:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4315533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alcitrant/pseuds/alcitrant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He got the reply of, “I’ll give you everything in the world", and Luke had kissed him harder. </p><p> </p><p>or when Michael is a destructive lover and Luke can't seem to find a way out</p>
            </blockquote>





	keep me from the cages, under the control

Luke remembers the first time he met someone who’s fingers shook like his did when he drank too much. Or maybe it’s still a little fuzzy like everything else seemed to be back then.

It was in his tenth year of high school when his parents were fighting and he inhaled more smoke than air. It was when even _music_ seemed to make him want to claw off his skin, burn in the shower, slice open his wrists. His friends had all gone away and Luke filled that hole left in him with rushed hand-jobs from strangers and make-outs in janitors closets and these bright blue pills that someone gave him in the club one night. They seemed bright enough to replace the missing color from his eyes, he thought.

Luke met a boy at a firework show one night who’s eyes sparkled like stars and he was kissing him before the sun came up. He tasted like whiskey and the mints they give out at fancy restaurants that Luke never had the luxury of going to, and when he told this to the boy in between burning exchanges of lips he got the reply of, “ _I’ll give you everything in the world"_ and Luke had kissed him harder. 

The boy’s name was Michael, a name Luke had heard probably thousands of times before but this time it made his heart thump out of his chest harder than the time he took nine of the blue pills he wanted to fill himself with. Michael was more gentle than Luke could ever be and he kept Luke in place, kept him safe and breathing and it didn't matter if that breath contained the poison that Michael could sometimes be. 

There were the times when they both were high. When they both slurred all over the place and tripped, gripped onto each other like anchors, fell into each other with messy " _I love you, baby_ "s and the loss of clothes. Luke would suck kisses into Michael's neck so hard his lips would bruise purple and match the color of the boy's hair and Luke was fucked up but so was Michael so maybe this time it was  _okay._

And then there were the times when Michael didn't keep Luke so safe. Sometimes Michael's hands would grip his hips a little too hard and maybe Luke liked it a little too much. At least when the bruises faded slowly, almost too slowly, they faded into a pretty greenish-yellow that matched Michael's eyes when he looked like he was in love. Luke thought Michael was the world he was promised to be given and he thought it was all okay then, like he'd found everything he needed. But the world always had a way of making things work and Luke knew this was too much but he couldn't stop because he was so, so in love. 

One day Luke read somewhere that legends live to make you uncomfortable and it almost made him want to stop it all. He didn't want to wake up to an aching body and a sour taste in his mouth. He wanted to make things better, call his brother, quit the drugs, get a job, be a legend some day. He wanted to be loved and not be the one  _to_ love, and one morning he got so close to stepping out the door. He was so close and so unsure, until Michael had woken up with a scary look in his eyes and suddenly they didn't seem so pretty anymore. 

Michael had told Luke once that he'd rather be angry than sad, because  _sadness is like_ sinking,  _Luke._ Sadness was sinking and wading and anger was a force of power, a source of feeling and Michael would've rather been raging than _fading_.

Luke remembers nodding and agreeing like he always did. Always kept Michael happy, _had to keep Michael happy._  But the rough touches the boy had given him that night made Luke want something without the power and force. He wanted to be loved. 

It took Luke a while to realize drugs could be quit and cuts would heal into silvery scars that glimmer in the sunlight but people couldn't be forgotten even if they were more like  _monsters_ than they were people.

Luke had tried to leave Michael and tried to stop seeing beauty in the smile that seemed to devour him at night. He tried to calm his shaking fingers that wouldn't pick up a bottle anymore and he tried to stand up straighter towards the boy he was  _addicted_ to, tragically and sickeningly and somehow _beautifully_ addicted to. But Michael would always pull him back with a lenient smirk and a  _"Come back to bed, baby."_  

His hands would tug at parts of Luke that Luke thought shouldn't be touched by someone so explosive, and the younger boy wondered when Michael turned so haunting.

Luke remembered the gentle kisses Michael used to give and how he wanted to supply Luke with the world. He remembered how Michael would make  _love_ to him instead of trapping him like some animal in a cage, and how they would drive to the cliff with their car for sunset and blow smoke through each other's mouths. Michael would sing to Luke like he each note was meant for him and Luke would kiss him so hard that he almost couldn't breathe.  Now the closest thing Luke gets to the world are the parts of it he doesn't get to see - the happiness he promised himself he was going to have one day. If he knew the world would hurt so badly he probably would've gotten out of it earlier. 

Luke regretted blaming himself for Michael's turn in sentiment but he did it anyways. He even regretted sneaking out in the middle of the night with the car keys and the small stash of money he kept under the flower pot and he regretted crying afterwards when he realized how much he still loved the boy sleeping in the bed they both occupied. He drove so fast that he pictured sparks flying up from under his tires and it made him think of the sparks he used to get from Michael, the sparks that he used to see in his eyes. Sometimes he ached for the soft smiles and the minty breath, but Michael smelled like whiskey before Luke even fell in love and maybe Luke's problem this whole time was his lack of realization. 

But as fast as the speed Luke was driving at and how quickly Michael's hand had gone to gripping a bottle harder than it gripped Luke's fingers, the sparks flew away and Luke didn't wish for them back. He wished for home.

And Michael wasn't it.  

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> was feelin a little angsty


End file.
